A Moment's Peace
by Dean's Bakery
Summary: Just an ordinary day with the boys on the road. Dean is in an introspective mood which does not last long, as always! Brotherly love and some exchange between the two. No major spoilers, except maybe a small bit from 01x17 "Hell House" and 07x10 "Death's Door". One-shot, complete!


**Greetings my lovely readers! We are all pretty familiar with the scene in the Impala [SPOILER] in 01x17 "Hell House", where Dean puts a plastic spoon in a sleeping Sam's mouth to take a picture and proceeds to blast the tranquility of the situation with his heavy metal tunes. All out of brotherly love of course :D**

**And as revealed in [SPOILER WHO HAVEN'T SEEN YET] 07x10 "Death's Door", Sam hates liquorice. I found that scene absolutely heart-melting when the brothers are arguing over movie snacks as Bobby looks on.**

**So I decided to combine the two and came up with this one-shot! Hope you like :)**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Supernatural, though Gabriel in a good mood might let me have it for a day in TV land :D**

**Reviews are highly appreciated, and constructive criticism is highly regarded. Dean's amulet-shaped cookies for those who kindly leave some behind!**

It was one of their days on the road. Typical, no different. The older brother drove with a quiet satisfaction as he drummed to certain beats emanating from the speakers. His hazel irises trained on the road occasionally darted over to his companion in the passenger seat, to make sure the younger brother was comfortable and at peace.

_Peace._ Dean smiled wryly at the thought. When had their Winchester luck given them a fair share of it?

The way they led their lives was no easy dance. Not that he was bragging, but every non-hunter who knew them had to admit the hardships they faced on a daily basis. And that was not even the worst part.

Putting up in the cheapest motels with the easiest conveniences and lack of luxury services was a common thing. Eating burgers and easy take-out instead of home-cooked meals was a normal custom. Hustling and poker were necessary tricks of their trade.

Being sick was not an option. And if they happened to get the flu or stomach bugs, all was supposed to be right in their world once they dry-swallowed a couple of pills.

Salting and burning was what constituted a normal, almost regular hunt. A tryst with a vengeful spirit made things a tad more interesting. Pagan gods posed challenges as long as they hadn't finished studying them. Once they finished their research, they could look forward to a good fight.

Battling demons was perhaps the trickiest part of their business. And often times it didn't even have to involve actual fighting- a mere greeting from them heralded trouble and it made either brother twice more cautious than they normally were. The ones who knew them would agree this induced stress of magnanimous proportions, to the point of willing to sacrifice or lose the next day's sunrise if they were not careful.

But that was their life.

_It was better than no life at all._

Dean turned to look at his little brother who was not so little anymore. The lanky young man nodding off in light sleep lulled by the Impala's lullaby was the reason that made their lives worthwhile. Sure he was grumpy, naïve, stubborn, soft-hearted and had a knack for landing in trouble when both of them least expected it; but that didn't change the fact that he also kept his older brother sane and human through the toughest days.

The innocent golden-green eyes always bathed in child-like wonder (except for the times when he was angry) had always looked up to his brother in undying devotion and unshakeable faith all these years; and they continued to do so each day.

That was reason enough for the brother driving their beloved car to have hope even on the days nothing, or no one seemed worthy to be saved- not even the ungrateful people who could have been easily taken by the creatures prowling in the darkness of the night.

His brother's untainted heart kept him safe from his fears, even though he would _**never**_ admit being scared; and he kept his brother safe because… well, just because he was his brother. Enough said.

What kind of _jerk_ would stop to think of a reason to protect his brother?

His lips curved up in an evil smirk on remembering the half-hated half-loved name his brother called him every time he got on the poor lad's nerves. He slowly reached for the several food packets they had carelessly stuffed in the space between the dashboard and windscreen.

He searched for a few moments before locating the right packet- it wasn't easy groping half-blindly with only one hand when he had to watch the traffic too.

Picking up one of the cherry-red elastic sticks he carefully bent it in the middle to make a U-shape. Then he pressed the open tips to flatten them a bit to resemble a holdfast. He was beaming with childish pride as he congratulated himself mentally for finishing the masterpiece with only one hand.

By the time he was working on shoving one of the flattened ends into Sam's nose and the other into his slightly parted mouth, he was struggling not to guffaw out loud.

Done.

He relaxed back in his seat as he waited for the flavor of the confectionary to trigger his brother's reaction.

It took a few moments but Sam woke with a bolt as he threw alarmed glances all around him, trying to locate the source of displeasure. As soon as he saw the laughing face of his brother, half his questions were answered. When he tried opening his mouth to yell at his older brother, whose level of maturity he sometimes seriously doubted, he got the answers to the other half of the queries knocking about in his sleepy, confused head.

Liquorice.

A friggin' stick of the red confectionery he hated more than Dean's choice of food. Oh, surprise. His brother had shoved it up his nose too- so now he was not only tasting that disgusting stuff, but also smelling it!

He ripped it out of his nose and mouth in savage urgency and he turned to glare at his brother.

"_What, Sammy? You don't like candy?"_ Dean asked in mock ignorance flashing a haughty grin at his immensely peeved brother.

Gawd, how he enjoyed that look on Sasquatch! It was better than all the burgers in the world!

Shaking his head in defeat, Sam changed the stifled arrangement of his long limbs on the bench seat and turned away from his brother to stare at the scenery flying past them. Or, to be more correct, they were the ones moving. A concept of Physics: Motion. First chapter in his science text book in junior high. Whatever.

Dean was rambling on about how easily he got miffed, just like a girl- proceeding to chant _"Samantha Samantha"_ in an annoying fashion, all while roaring in wild laughter shamelessly.

Sam shut his eyes as he muttered _"Jerk."_ The scowl on his face reflected in his resigned voice.

In the midst of his created chaos, his big brotherly ear-drums picked up the whispered comment. His face blasted with a grin that couldn't get any wider, before it relaxed into a wishful and contented smile.

"_Bitch."_

Sam couldn't help but give in to the smile that was tugging incessantly at his lips. He really wanted to strangle his brother for the liquorice effect in his breathe and mouth though. _Stupid big brothers,_ he thought affectionately.

Dean didn't have to see his brother's face to know he was smiling.

And because they were boys that were brothers, they were both going to pretend to play it cool; even though a hug or maybe a fist-bump on the shoulder would have completed the picture.

Besides, they were driving. And being the responsible citizens they were, they couldn't let their soft sentimentality put the other cars on the road in peril.

Nope. They were going to relish and immerse themselves in the sweetness of the moment quietly, in a manly way… by refusing to acknowledge the smug grins on each other's faces.

**Please review :)**

***nibbling on a carrot stick in apprehensive wait for feedback***


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